Crimson Corridors

In avenues of fallen lives

across carpets of crimson crush,

the colours of seasons past deteriorate.

Detached from pillared stability,

they rest

the longest sleep.

Yet, in their passing,

they bless my mind

with bejewelled thoughts

that my eyes can but confirm.

And I think to myself:

perhaps death is not so bad after all,

when viewed down that final,

crimson corridor?


19 thoughts on “Crimson Corridors

  1. A really interesting perspective — and I love the imagery: “carpets of crimson crush” — WOW!
    Sending coffee – in advance — you earned it πŸ˜‰

  2. Rather inviting, but you know what they say, “Most people want to go to Heaven, but they don’t want to go just now”. very well put together and wonderful imagery!

      1. The picture really fit the poem. And the symmetry really catches my attention. I like things equal and spaced perfectly.

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